The Australian Government’s discourse, on counterterrorism and the ‘battle of ideas’, invites several critical observations. The first is that the government’s perception of the problem is based on a simplistic, dichotomous typology of Muslims as either ‘radical’ or ‘moderate’. Rarely are definitions offered for either term, though it is often apparent from the use of related adjectives and synonyms how the government views these categories. ‘Radical’ is most commonly taken to mean ‘violent’, ‘extremist’ or ‘fundamentalist’, but is also often linked to intolerance, theocratic rather than democratic tendencies, and sectarianism; terrorism is located as an extremist sub-category within radicalism. By contrast, ‘moderate’ is associated to terms such as ‘tolerant’, ‘pluralist’ or ‘mainstream’, and Muslims of this persuasion are seen as democrats and law-abiding. Often, more loaded descriptors are used, such as referring to radical Muslims and terrorists as ‘evil’, ‘medieval’ and ‘barbarous’, or portraying moderates as ‘good’, ‘peace-loving’ and ‘modern-minded’. Such a discourse revolves around binary opposites, whereby all virtue is ascribed to the ‘moderates’, and ‘radicals’ are cast in unrelievedly negative terms. In effect, the ‘moderate Muslims’ are cast as friends in a common struggle and the ‘radical Muslims’ are the enemy or at the very least problematic.

In reality, this dichotomy is crudely inadequate to understanding the great complexity within Indonesia’s Islamic community (or indeed, any other community). Many Muslims may hold views that are, according to the Indonesian Government’s criteria, both radical and moderate. Individual Muslims may be supportive of democracy and modernisation but also favour comprehensive implementation of sharia law and have anti-Semitic or anti-Christian views. For example, one of the most prominent Muslim leaders in Indonesia, Professor Din Syamsuddin, behaves in a way which transcends the radical-moderate division. One part of his public life appears to mark him out as a ‘moderate’. He is chairman of the nation’s second-largest Islamic organisation, Muhammadiyah, and also deputy chairman of the government-sponsored Indonesian Ulama Council, or Majelis Ulama Indonesia, two positions that would seem to place him squarely in the middle of ‘mainstream’ Islam. In addition to this, he enjoys a high profile at home and abroad as an advocate of interfaith dialogue. He is co-chair of the World Conference on Religion and Peace, convenor of the World Peace Forum, chairman of the Indonesian Chapter of Religion and Peace and deputy secretary-general of the World Islamic People’s Forum.^[17] He has also defended Indonesia’s religiously neutral state ideology of Pancasila from attack by Islamists who seek to replace it with an explicitly Islamic ideology. On other occasions Din acts like a ‘radical’. He has claimed that Indonesian terrorism is a product of Central Intelligence Agency manipulation, and during the US-led bombing of Afghanistan in 2001 he called for jihad against America. He has promoted hardline Islamists to the Indonesian Majelis Ulama Indonesia and backed the Council’s controversial 2005 fatwa condemning ‘pluralism, liberalism and religious secularism’ as contrary to Islamic law.^[18] At the same time, within Muhammadiyah he has overseen the sidelining of prominent moderate intellectuals and has spoken out in favour of sharia-based local laws, even where these are staunchly resisted by religious minorities. Thus, the range of Din Syamsuddin’s thinking and actions are not easily reducible to a single characterisation. Trying to fit him into either a neat ‘radical’ or ‘moderate’ category is a Procrustean exercise.^[19]

These kinds of complexities can be found across the Indonesian Islamic community. Sometimes they are the product of genuine ambivalence; in other cases they are borne of political calculation.

There is another problem with the radical/moderate characterisation: it encourages narrow thinking on the part of government officials when implementing policies and interacting with Muslims. For example, Indonesian Muslims invited to participate in exchange programs to Australia are carefully vetted to ensure that they have not espoused ‘radical views’. Prospective participants who have been publicly critical of the ‘war on terror’ or advocated strongly Islamist positions are likely to be pushed lower down invitation lists or struck off them entirely. Moreover, some senior Australian officials have adopted a condescending or naively approving tone when meeting Muslims. One senior embassy official in Jakarta was in the habit of visiting mainstream Muslim organisations and commending his interlocutors as ‘true Muslims’, often to the chagrin of his hosts.

So, using a radical–moderate paradigm as the starting point for counterterrorism policies is inherently flawed as it imposes false boundaries upon Muslim behaviour. A sounder option would be to avoid the use of the term ‘radical’, as this covers too broad a spectrum of thinking and action within the Muslim community, and focus instead upon those who perpetrate or endorse violence. Thus, Islamists who seek ‘sharia-isation’ through democratic means or who criticise the ‘war on terror’ would not necessarily be regarded as ‘part of the problem’; the important thing is that they do not use or condone violence.

The second difficulty with the Australian Government’s approach is that it promotes the mistaken notion that there is a single ‘correct’ form of Islam which is inherently peaceable and tolerant. This is in keeping with President Bush’s refrain that Islam is a ‘religion of peace’. Islam, like other faiths, contains a diversity of teachings, many of which are open to a variety of interpretations. The two central sources of Islamic law—the Qur’an and the example of the Prophet Muhammad (Sunnah)—contain both irenic and bellicose elements. Much depends on Muslim perceptions of their position in the world as to whether tolerant or militant sources of guidance are drawn upon. Muslims who believe themselves to be under attack can find many sections of the Qur’an and Sunnah which sanction aggressive behaviour in such circumstances. By contrast, Muslims who find themselves in a relatively stable and prosperous community are more likely to invoke the pluralistic and quietist sections of scripture.

The third criticism of Australian policies is that they fail to specify the target audience for ‘counter-radicalisation’ programs and tend to offer undifferentiated programs for both mainstream and jihadist sections of the Islamic community, as if one approach will work for all Muslims (or, indeed, all terrorists). Attempts to involve ‘moderate’ or ‘mainstream’ Muslims in counterterrorism efforts appear to assume that terrorists and prospective terrorists are either drawn from mainstream Islam or heedful of moderate ulema or Islamic leaders. Both these assumptions are dubious. The available evidence points to most terrorists coming from family, educational or social backgrounds that are already militantly Islamist; very few of the more than 300 terrorists arrested to date have come from non-jihadist or mainstream organisations such as Muhammadiyah or Indonesia’s largest Muslim organisation, Nahdlatul Ulama. Moreover, there is abundant evidence suggesting that terrorists and those whom terrorists are seeking to recruit are dismissive of moderate leaders, believing that they are part of Islam’s problem. Terrorists accuse moderates of straying from ‘true’ Islamic teachings and of weakening the faith by being too prepared for compromise on matters that Muslims should rightly hold firm, such as unstintingly implementing sharia and rejecting secularism. The convicted Bali bomber, Imam Samudra, gave some insight into these attitudes when he wrote that mujahideen should only follow Islamic scholars who had direct experience of war:

Hence, the Australian Government’s policy to use moderates to influence terrorists seems doomed to failure. Indeed, there is mounting evidence to suggest that the most effective way to wage a ‘battle of ideas’ among jihadists is to use Islamic scholars who are of similar doctrinal outlook but who reject terrorism in an Indonesian context. Most Indonesian jihadists regard themselves as salafist, a puritanically conservative stream within Islam which seeks to model itself strictly on the example of the first three generations of Muslims. The great majority of salafists are non-violent and pursue their religious and social goals through educational, intellectual and preaching activity. There is, however, a small sub-stream within salafism, usually called jihadi salafism, which regards violence against Islam’s enemies as justified. Non-jihadist salafis are strongly critical of terrorism, regarding it as sinful and contrary to the teachings of Islam’s founding generations.^[21]

A look at the discourse regarding terrorism in Indonesia shows the impact of salafist critiques of jihadi salafism. In 2004, Imam Samudra published his biography and manifesto, Aku Melawan Teroris (I Oppose Terrorists), which soon became a best-seller. By 2006, more that 15 000 copies had been sold and the book had been reprinted four times. Aku Melawan Teroris gave the first opportunity for many Indonesian Muslims to read a terrorist explaining in detail their thinking and actions, and the author repeatedly justifies his behaviour in terms of salafist principles. Samudra’s publication prompted a string of books from critics challenging his interpretations. The first was Nasir Abas’s Membongkar Jama’ah Islamiyah (Exposing Jemaah Islamiyah).^[22] Nasir was a former JI member and head of the organisation’s third regional command based in Sulawesi. Although not from a staunch salafist perspective, he accuses Samudra of selective quoting from the Qur’an and of twisting JI’s original doctrine. The second ‘reply’ to Samudra was written by a salafi scholar and former paramilitary leader, Luqman Ba’abduh, Mereka Adalah Teroris (They are the Terrorists).^[23] The cover is identical to that of Samudra’s book and the text offers a closely argued exegetical and jurisprudential rebuttal of Aku Melawan Teroris from a salafist viewpoint. (Ba’abduh has also travelled widely through Indonesia, holding public meetings to discredit Samudra’s writings.)^[24] Another salafist scholar, Abu Hamzah Yusuf At-Atsary, published a shorter tome opposing Samudra entitled Aku Melawan Teroris: Sebuah Kedustaan Atas Nama Ulama Ahlussunnah (I Oppose Terrorists: a Fraud in the Name of Sunni Ulema), in which he declares the Bali bomber to be deceiving his co-religionists and of advancing thinking which is un-salafi.^[25] The most recent book on this subject, by Muhammadiyah intellectual Abduh Zulfidar Akaha, is critical of Ba’abduh and the attack on Samudra.^[26] Not to be outdone, Samudra has, from his cell on death row, written his response to critics, though it has yet to be published.^[27] Interestingly, much of his text is taken up with answering salafist criticisms of his original writings.

Thus, it is clear from the foregoing that much of the debate over the legitimacy of terrorism is taking place not in mainstream communities but within fundamentalist and radical Islamic groups. These are the circles from which most terrorists are recruited and if would-be jihadists are to be dissuaded from violent activity, it will be this discourse which is most likely to influence them. Western governments will find it difficult to assist this salafist challenge to terrorism, because most salafist scholars would be averse to receiving Western aid, and would object to many of the views held by salafists. For example, salafists are usually opposed to gender equality, deny Israel’s right to exist, are anti-Semitic, and are hostile to the ‘Christian West’.

A final criticism of the ‘battle of ideas’ is that it greatly exaggerates the extent of ideological ferment within the broader Islamic community. Australian politicians frequently talk about the ‘battle of ideas’ as if large sections of Indonesia’s Muslim community were at risk of radicalisation. The reality is that Islamism and jihadism are very much minority phenomena and there is little evidence to support the contention that Indonesia is becoming more radical. In political terms, Islamist parties gained just 16 per cent and 22 per cent at the 1999 and 2004 elections respectively—far below the 43 per cent of the 1955 election. While there are some localities controlled by Islamist parties and currently engaged in ‘sharia-isation’, these amount to less than 10 per cent of Indonesia’s more than 500 provinces and districts. At the national level, attempts to insert sharia clauses into the constitution have been soundly defeated. This suggests that, in terms of mainstream Islam, there is no monumental battle between pluralism and tolerance on the one hand and violent jihad and fundamentalism on the other. There is serious debate over ideological and theological issues related to jihad, but this discourse is taking place within a largely pluralist framework and there is little prospect of the terms of this debate changing dramatically within the short to medium term.

A more important task for Australian counterterrorism than the ‘battle of ideas’ is to persuade Indonesians of the nature of the terrorism problem within their country. While seemingly most Indonesians now accept that terrorist attacks have been carried out by their fellow countrymen, conspiracy theories regarding the role of foreign intelligence agencies abound and denial of JI’s existence in Indonesia remains commonplace. The Australian Government could contribute to a more informed debate in Indonesia by releasing reliable information about terrorists including, where possible, primary source materials gathered by intelligence agencies, and by assisting the Indonesian police to explain terrorist thinking and activities to the public.

Another obstacle for effective counterterrorism is to allay suspicions about Western motives in conducting the ‘war on terror’. There are two elements to this. The first is that countries such as Australia and the United States apply different standards when dealing with the Muslim world compared to their own allies and client states. The most often mentioned cases are those of the Israel–Palestine conflict and the treatment of Muslim detainees in Guantanamo Bay’s Camp Delta. An indication of the depth of feeling generated by such issues is a recent speech by K. H. Mustofa Bisri, the deputy president (rais) of Nahdlatul Ulama. Mustofa, apart from being a noted Islamic scholar, poet and columnist, has also been an eloquent champion of religious tolerance and understanding. And yet, during the Israeli attack on southern Lebanon in 2006, he railed against the role of Western countries, and the United States in particular, in supporting Israel and unleashing emotions that feed terrorism:

Despite his anger at what he sees as the injustice of Israeli and US actions, and his sympathy for those who oppose it, Mustofa ultimately warns against violent jihad as a reaction.

The second suspicion is that Western countries are using the ‘war on terror’ as a means of pursuing their strategic, diplomatic and economic interests. One common view within Islamic political circles, for example, is that nations such as Australia have tried to lever Indonesia into supporting the current Iraq War by claiming this as a part of the ‘war on terror’.